


ease.

by tenderlove



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Heavy Angst, M/M, Multi, Run-On Sentences, Slow Burn, Swearing, chanhee is always confused, haha : ), i put their thoughts in because it's better when you understand the character's point of view, kinda not rly, prepare for heartbreak, self-deprication
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-15 20:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17535674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderlove/pseuds/tenderlove
Summary: Chanhee's heart is delicate like lace, weaving in and out of his heartstrings, and all Changmin knows how to do is pull.





	1. studio

**Author's Note:**

> In which Changmin questions whether he should go to the gym more often, or less.

     His breath is labored, as if his lungs were tethered by heartstrings, overflowing with passion and inevitably drowning. Every swift moment with the pulse through his feet and the beat engraved into his memory sets fire to the floor like a match thrown on gasoline. Perspiration trails from his forehead down his jawline, dripping down the boy’s neck until soaking his shirt or falling to the ground like intermittent raindrops. He doesn’t care how many hours he’s fell victim to at the studio, he doesn’t care how exhausted and worn out he is, he doesn’t care about dealing with the bitter soreness that is inevitable. He doesn’t know what he cares about, but the rhythm occupied his conscious enough to block any straggling thoughts that tried to sneak its way in.

     He takes a brief sip of his now lukewarm water, swallowing half a bottle in nearly four seconds flat. The boy tosses the empty plastic bottle aside, missing the recycling bin and groaning. The track starts again, giving him less than 30 seconds to rest but he didn’t care. It was routine for the boy to incessantly manipulate his attention to the figure in the mirror, narrowing his eyes. Others could get tired of doing the same thing over and over again on end, viewing it as mundane, but this is what the boy craved. He craved passion and lust between the walls and cold reflective surfaces, watching his every move.

     Although nearly finished with the choreography for the umpteenth time, he practiced until his body gave out with his limbs feeling as heavy as lumber. He catches a glimpse of another pair of eyes examining his movements. Choi Chanhee has a problem with staring too long at his definition, no, _epitome_ of divinity. He slows his movements and eventually comes to a halt. The boy stops the track, leaning against the mirror.

     “Can I help you?” he asks, staring the boy square in the face. He wanted to be confrontational but hesitated upon examining the admiration in the soft boy’s eyes, as he doesn’t perform for an uninvited and unwelcome audience.

     “I-I was just wondering if I could use the room, but I didn’t realize there was someone in here.”

     “Oh,” the other boy starts. “I’m Changmin. Ji Changmin, actually heh.” He smiles a little, trying to ease the other boy’s nerves. “You can share the room with me, but only if you want. There are 14 minutes left.” Chanhee nods and shyly makes his way into the room, grabbing a mat to do his incessant set of calisthenics, yet requiring minimal energy as he’s already exceedingly wearied.

     Changmin returns to tweaking his choreography, substituting combos with points, and sighing when he can’t get it right. Chanhee can’t take his eyes off Changmin, gazing at the boy’s reflection in the mirror.

     “You’re really talented,” Chanhee says, flipping over onto his back. Changmin doesn’t say anything but gives a smile in response, not missing a beat. Changmin lets the song finish before unplugging his phone and sitting next to the other boy.

     “Thanks, by the way.”

     “Hm?”

     “You said I’m talented. Thank you.”

     “Oh, right. You’re welcome.” They sit in silence for a few seconds.

     “You’re very flexible,” Changmin says, stretching his own legs. Chanhee nods. “I better get going.” Changmin pops up and grabs his belongings and leaves the room. Chanhee quickly follows, putting in one of his AirPods, without turning on any music. “Way to flex,” Changmin teases, pointing at the AirPods case in his hand.

     “Oh, um ―”

     “Have a good one.” Changmin walks away, leaving Chanhee behind. He focuses his soft gaze as Changmin walks away, unable to remove the silhouette from his line of vision. It isn’t until it begins to drizzle that Chanhee snaps back into the present.

 

* * *

 

 

     Chanhee finds himself in a cycle of coming to the gym every day to catch so much of a glimpse of the dancer. On the off chance that he does, he only smiles and mutters a shy “hello” when he can.

     Chanhee has never taken drugs, he only learned about them in 10th grade health. He believed that Changmin was a stimulant because his heart has never beat so fast before.

     The boy is constantly texting his boyfriend, Younghoon, who always seems to be absent. He can’t help but check his phone every three minutes at the absolute minimum.

     Chanhee sees the dancer exit the aerobics room from his peripheral vision, immediately ceasing his set. Changmin enters the locker room, which Chanhee assumes is to freshen up. He takes this opportunity to position himself where the other boy would inevitably cross his path for the “oh hey I didn’t see you there” cliché he sees in the movies; meanwhile, Chanhee anxiously checks his phone for Younghoon to reply.

     Chanhee has had doubts about his Younghoon. He arrives home later than he should, often smelling like cigarettes and scotch, but Younghoon never smokes or drinks. His thoughts are interrupted as Changmin passes by.

     “O-oh hey..!” Chanhee stutters. “I didn’t expect you to be here ― I mean, I didn’t see you there.” Chanhee mentally scolds himself for making himself look like a dimwit.

     “Well,” Changmin starts. “I do pay a good amount of money to come here.” Chanhee opens his mouth to speak but flinches. “That sounded really rude and I didn’t mean for it to be.” Chanhee doesn’t acknowledge the seemingly empty apology but doesn’t necessarily ignore it either.

     “Leaving early?”

     “Yeah. A little too tired. You can use the room if you want.” Changmin sighs and averts his eyes away from Chanhee’s. Chanhee did expect a little more out of this minimal interaction, pouting disappointedly. Changmin pushes the door and walks through the threshold, but the other boy grabs the dancer by the wrist like in a drama. He quickly lets go and apologizes.

     “I… I don’t know why I did that. I was g-going to say something, but I forgot.” Chanhee stumbles over his words, visibly nervous. Maybe _ever since I saw you, you’re what I think of when I come across the word angelic,_ Chanhee thinks, his lips slightly parted. This was the first skinship between the two, and it felt like fire. Chanhee couldn’t tell if his delicate fingers or flushed face felt hotter.

     “Goodnight, Chanhee.” Changmin leaves as Chanhee stands dumbfounded, his feet rooted to the floor beneath his soles.

 _Did I really tell him my name..?_ Chanhee ponders. _I know he introduced himself but I don’t remember ever saying my name._

     Chanhee returns to Younghoon’s apartment, where he spends more time than the tenant himself. He understands that his boyfriend his busy, but he expects his Younghoon to come home around five or six. Chanhee doesn’t think it’s too much to ask for text, considering that his boyfriend works a part-time job that isn’t exactly demanding. It’s 8:12 pm and Younghoon seemingly disappeared into thin air without thinking twice.

     Chanhee curls up on the couch as he doesn’t feel like sharing the bed if and when his other half comes back. It _is_ Younghoon’s bed, and Chanhee feels like he only occupies it when he’s convenient. He sighs upon scanning his lockscreen, a picture of him and Younghoon on their first date. Strangely, he doesn’t feel anything anymore; he doesn’t feel warm and tingly inside like he used to. It wasn’t until the screen went black after six seconds that felt like six years that Chanhee realized he didn’t love Younghoon anymore. He changed his wallpaper to just a basic default live picture.

     The boy had dozed off but awoke to the sound of the lock turning and the door opening. He sees his boyfriend giggling at his phone, putting it in his pocket. Chanhee rushes to his boyfriend and jumps onto him, legs wrapped around the older’s waist with arms craned around his neck.

     “I missed you,” Chanhee squeaks, pressing his lips to Younghoon’s.

     “Did you now?”

     Chanhee notices the little things: the way Younghoon came in giggling at his phone without looking at any of the endless texts he sent, the way Younghoon was indifferent about seeing his boyfriend of five months after a long day, the way Younghoon didn’t say that he missed Chanhee back, but instead shoved his tongue between the younger’s lips. Chanhee couldn’t help but notice that Younghoon tasted of strawberry soju, even though Chanhee knows damn well that Younghoon doesn’t engage in that kind of behavior. Chanhee didn’t care. The bedroom door slammed shut behind them and that was that, regardless of how unhealthy it was.

     Chanhee doesn’t know what he feels most guilty about: changing his lockscreen, repeating Changmin’s “goodnight, Chanhee” in his head like a broken record, or making love to, no, hooking up with a man he didn’t love anymore.  



	2. dumpling

     Chanhee clings to his boyfriend’s side, his legs intertwining around one of Younghoon’s. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the warmth to subsist forever. It felt like an artificial warmth, one of a heater instead of a raw, wholesome, crackling fire. That’s how Younghoon’s warmth felt, but any warmth is better than freezing to death, not to mention, in solitude.

     “Hoon,” Chanhee starts. “You’ve been coming home very late recently… what’s going on?” Younghoon shifts so that he faces the younger, but makes sure they’re not touching in the slightest.

     “It’s nothing,” he retorts dispassionately, but boops Chanhee’s nose.

     “You smell like cigarettes and soju, hoon,” Chanhee says, matter-of-factly. The tone in his voice deviates to concern. “You know I’m always here for you.”

     Younghoon rolled his eyes, but only in his head. _So fucking cliché,_ Younghoon thought. _If only you knew._

     “I’ll love you until the end.” That was a lie and Chanhee knew it, but maybe if he said it over and over again, it would feel true. Chanhee finds that thoughts of Younghoon are being replaced with those of the cute boy that rents the dance room, and Chanhee couldn’t tell if he liked it or not. Younghoon says nothing and only kisses the younger’s forehead.

     “I’m sorry,” Younghoon mutters before turning around to sleep. “Goodnight, Chanhee.”

     Younghoon’s silence resonated with Chanhee. It wasn’t about what he did, it’s about what he didn’t do.

      _Why is Younghoon being so secretive?_ Chanhee thought. _Does he not want my help? My support? If all I am to him is a shoulder to cry on, then I suppose that’s fine but he doesn’t even want that._ We’re ‘boyfriends’ but it seems like we only inhabit one bed together.

     He remains frozen until Younghoon is sound asleep to untangle himself from his boyfriend’s sheets, if only he could untangle himself from his lover, too. Chanhee plodded himself out of bed like a sluggish drunk wounded of several shots suffering from a hangover that has lasted a week. It didn’t feel appropriate wearing Younghoon’s shirt because he felt that he was indebted to give his shirt to Chanhee after sex, a reminder that their love was still burning bright, almost like a relic, or a trinket. Chanhee slips into his gym clothes, as they were the only clothes he brought with him. He texts Younghoon, despite being in the same room, feet apart, but it felt like millions of miles away.

 

_[00:49] chanhee: wasn’t feeling well so i left_

 

     Chanhee sighed and silently vacated Younghoon’s home, knowing his boyfriend wouldn’t even glance at the message.

     Chanhee takes the subway to his confidant’s home. He calls once he arrives, letting his best friend, Jacob, know to open the door. With Chanhee’s chin to his chest, Jacob just wraps his arms around him. Jacob’s warmth was special. It wasn’t the synthetic heat like Younghoon’s, but it wasn’t an unfiltered fire either. It wasn’t roaring with passion, engulfing anything and everything. No, Jacob’s warmth was like a candle, probably a scented one that reminded Chanhee of home. He was serene, melting as the flame burned longer. It was almost sedative, Chanhee allowing himself to be vulnerable.

     “I’ll make you tea.”

     Chanhee doesn’t want to look at anyone right now, but Jacob looks at him like Chanhee is his undivided and intact galaxy. He admires the younger’s eyes as if they contain the brightest stars in the midst of a black hole, a smile that shines brighter than the sun. But with Chanhee’s downcast demeanor, it felt like it rained for a perpetual 40 days and 40 nights to Jacob.

     “Thank you, Cobbie,” he buries his face in Jacob’s chest. “You’ll always be my best friend.” Jacob internally winced, knowing that he’ll never escape the deep trench known as the _friendzone._ They say the people around you create your soul, and Jacob felt like he just lost a big part of his.

 

* * *

 

 

     Chanhee saw Younghoon less and less, and he didn’t even seem to mind. He went days without seeing Younghoon at a time. It’s not that Chanhee felt empty or numb; in fact, he felt liberated. He wasn’t under Younghoon’s deathly grip, gasping for a single breath. He was able to inhale fresh air without worrying who was behind his back.

     Chanhee used this unofficial break to take care of himself. He stayed at home some days, pampering himself from making time for skincare, sleeping in, indulging in his favorite snacks, to starting a new book, attending an art class, and karaoking all by himself (yes, a whole room just for him). The boy found himself eager to see Changmin, and he strangely didn’t know why because Changmin is cute, but he doesn’t expect much to come out of _whatever this is._

     The brown haired boy stops at the front desk of the gym, palms face down on the counter with his fingers anxiously tapping. He debated whether or not to ask such a question out of the blue when it’s really not his business; then again, it’s not a very important question. It was only for Chanhee to see Changmin next.

     “When does Changmin usually rent the dance room?” he asks the receptionist.

     “Tuesdays and Thursdays usually, sometimes he comes Saturday morning.”

     “Ah, okay.” He checks his phone to realize it’s Thursday. “Thank you. I think I need to pay for this month.”

     “Your name, please?”

     “Choi Chanhee.”

     “Ah… Changmin asked for your name.” _So **that’s** how he knew,_ Chanhee thought. “He asked for the cute boy with the brown hair, kind of short.” Chanhee scoffs at the ‘kind of short’ mention, considering Changmin was around his own height if he could commemorate.

     “Really..?” He feels his cheeks warm up, a private smile on his lips. “But that could be anyone.”

     “If I remember correctly, there weren’t many people here that late. I could be wrong, though, as it was a little while ago.” Chanhee hands the receptionist his credit card, nearly dropping it.

     “He said… cute?” he cocks his head to one side.

     “Yeah, but I don’t know if he’s into guys. I don’t think he is.”

     “I-I ―” The boy turns a bright red. _Exposed_.

     “I’m just teasing. You’re all set for this month!” Chanhee sighs as he retrieves his card, putting it back in its designated spot in his wallet as he exhales heavily.

     He shyly makes his way to the aerobics room, pulling out a mat and beginning to stretch. He straddled and reached over to his left, and then right, and then middle, a ritual before every workout session, it almost feels like a sin to go without it.

     Changmin enters the room, finding Chanhee straddling a mat.

     “Oh hey, I didn’t see you there,” Changmin teases with a singsong tone in his voice, the way the other boy said it the first time. “Need something?”

     “No ― uh, yes.”

     “Which one is it, dumpling?” Chanhee raises a brow, but internally he swoons like a little girl whose crush just asked her out.

     “Dumpling?”

     “Sorry, was that weird? Your cheeks are like dumplings. It’s cute.” Changmin smiles.

     “Thank you… I guess? Anyways,” He scratches the back of his head. “I was wondering if you could be like… um… how do I say it... a personal trainer… for me.”

     “Yah…” Changmin sighs. “You know I’m just a dancer, right?” He giggles.

     “A-ah yeah. Nevermind then. Sorry I asked,” Chanhee says, dejectedly. He didn’t expect himself to be this forward, as he really thinks of himself as a shy and reserved boy. Taking the initiative was something Chanhee wasn’t used to; he went out on the line and got rejected, as he expected.

     “I didn’t say no.” Chanhee’s eyes light up.

     “I’ll pay you!” He couldn’t tell if he was excited to work out, or excited to have an excuse to see Changmin.

     “No need, just think of it as a favor.”

     “Um, I was hoping it wouldn’t just be a one-time thing.”

     “Oh, really?” Changmin raises a brow semi suggestively as he playfully punches Chanhee’s arm.

     “Hey!” The other boy slaps Changmin contentedly on the chest. “I’m trying to be healthy!”

     “You look good to me.”

     “I-I have a boyfriend..!” Chanhee blurted out. _Fuck fuck fuck_ , Chanhee thought. _I’m so fucked. I just ruined it. Ruined what ―? It doesn’t matter. I just fucking ruined it. Good job, Chanhee. You’ve ruined yet another potential beneficial factor in your life. Are you proud of yourself?_ “I-I’m sorry…”

     “Oh, I wasn’t trying to ―” _Fuck,_ Changmin thought.

     “I’m really sorry.”

     “Don’t worry about it. Let’s not make this awkward.” _Pretty impossible,_ the dancer thought. _I think I may have gone too far. I was only trying to be cute but I had no idea he had a rat up his ass. Wait, that’s mean. I know he doesn’t know what I’m thinking but sorry Chanhee. You’re still cute even if you’re a little uptight._

     Changmin instructed Chanhee on what to do, guiding him through the motions. _Curl-ups, mountain climbers, plank, burpees, v-sits, squats, repeat. Curl-ups, mountain climbers, plank, burpees, v-sits, squats, repeat. Curl-ups, mountain climbers, plank, burpees, v-sits, squats, repeat._ Chanhee didn’t exactly register anything in his mind because he just felt exceedingly shitty about giving Changmin information he didn’t need. After about a good 45 minutes had passed, Chanhee starfishes on the floor, sweeping his sweat-drenched bangs to the side as he runs his fingers through his hair. Changmin sits cross-legged next to him.

     “I’m sorry about what I said earlier, it really slipped out and I feel so bad. I don’t know if you were trying to flirt or someth ―”

 _Trying to flirt?_ Changmin thought. _Wow, Chanhee. I **was** flirting. Not just ‘trying.’_

     “Relax, Chanhee. Can I get your phone number?”

     “U-uh,” Chanhee pauses. _Did I not just say I have a boyfriend?!_ Chanhee thinks. _A boyfriend who I don’t really want as my boyfriend anymore._

     “For our next session, silly.”

     “Oh, right.” _Don’t flatter yourself,_ Chanhee thinks as he punches in his phone number.

      _Chanhee may have curved my little pet name for him,_ the dancer thought. _but it won’t stop me from changing his contact name from +82 0* 6*** 9*** to dumpling._

     “Just call me.” _You’re still here but I like hearing your voice,_ the other boy thinks. _This is fucking weird. I don’t have a crush on you. You’re just cute, that’s it. You’re a cute boy, and nothing more. Maybe a friend, but definitely not more than that._

     “I will, I promise.”

     “Goodnight, Chanhee.” _There it is again,_ Chanhee thought. _Those damn words._

     Chanhee leaves before the other, walking to his car and burying his face in his hands. Changmin watched from the studio window, sighing.

He opened up his conversation with Chanhee, pressing Add Contact. He felt a little shaky in his fingertips, struggling to type a simple word of ‘dumpling.’ He smiled to himself, shaking his head as he giggled. Dumpling seemed so fitting for Chanhee. Cute as hell, could eat him right up in the most innocent way possible. Changmin typed out _hey it’s changmin_ but quickly looked over to the window to find Chanhee lifting his head and putting his car in ignition. He slowly deleted the text, one letter at a time instead of just pressing and holding the backspace button. His fingers immediately type _drive safely :)_ and pressed send, and for once in his life, he was so **fucking** glad he wasn’t connected to the internet. Changmin quickly turned on airplane mode and waited for the text to fail, only to delete it. He thought it was a bit odd to text Chanhee, especially _drive safely :)_ because Chanhee would know the other boy was watching. How did Changmin know he was driving and not taking the subway? Changmin mentally slapped himself.

_Of all the people who attend this gym in the middle of Seoul, why did he pick me..? There’s other gyms, other studios, other people who are  w a y  more athletic and in better shape than me. Maybe it’s because I was just there. Maybe I was just convenient. I don’t think he finds anything special about me, maybe just the fact that I let only him use the room when I occupy it. I don’t let anyone else in, and I don’t really plan on it. Just Chanhee. What the fuck is going on. Changmin put his hand over his heart, fingers trembling as he felt his pulse quicken. It’s probably just from exercising. Just exercising, and nothing else. It’s what hearts do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like the word fuck a lot


	3. unloyal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not for the fainthearted (read it anyway)

_      [22:03] _

_???: hello _

_ chanhee: who is this? _

_???: changmin, from the gym _

_ changmin: didn’t realize i didn’t give you my number lmao _

_ ch: oh hello changmin :D _

_ ch: when should we meet next ?? _

_ cm: call me _

_ ch: im on the subway :,< _

_ cm: call me later then _

_ [read by chanhee at 22:18] _

 

Chanhee rides the subway for a little while, disembarking at the station for his lover’s, or so he thought, apartment. He checks his phone unremittingly for just  _ one  _ text from his boyfriend, and of course, nil. 

The boy pulls a key to his boyfriend’s door, unlocking the latch vigilantly, in case Younghoon is asleep. He prods the door ajar, peeking inside, pausing. The floor is littered with clothing Chanhee knows  _ isn’t Younghoon’s  _ **_or_ ** _ his.  _ They were in no particular order, but evidently recently stripped. He ceases breathing, unsure if it was out of shock, or to listen in. Chanhee immediately regrets, no, laments doing so as his eyes followed the pathetic trail of clothes to Younghoon’s room. The boy covers his mouth in horror, hot tears stinging at his eyes, not daring to let them fall. He’ll never be able to get his soon to be ex-boyfriend’s ‘fuck, hyung’ that he heard over and over, accompanied by the unmistakable resonance of skin slapping skin. It’s not like he was jerking off and thinking of Chanhee, as he is Chanhee’s senior. The poor child thought he had experienced the worst, his free hand clenching the locks of his hair, nearly abrasive enough to rip strands of his own hair out.

_ No, _ Chanhee thought.  _ This cannot be happening. It’s not true. Younghoon wouldn’t cheat on me. He loves me, and I love him. We’re together. Wait, I don’t necessarily love him. But that’s not a valid reason to cheat on me. _

Chanhee wasn’t a nasty perv. He didn’t listen for very long, but it was unfortunately long enough to hear Younghoon reach his climax. He knew he would never be able to rid his conscious of this venomous thought, or it would take a  _ really long fucking time.  _ Chanhee fled Younghoon’s apartment, leaving his key to the apartment under the doormat as he silently sobbed. His quivering hands opening up his chat with Jacob, tears falling onto his screen as he sniffed.

 

_ [23:02] chanhee: come to the bar near my place asap _

 

Chanhee sobbed for the entirety of the subway ride, the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes.

_ Why? What did I do to deserve this? Why did this happen? How? Was I not enough? Was I not fucking enough? _

Chanhee realized he still needed to call Changmin because he knew damn well he would be too drunk to say anything coherent much less rational by daybreak after drowning his sorrows. The boy does his best to stop crying and sniffling incessantly as he dials Changmin’s number.

“Hello?” asked Changmin through the cellular filter.

“Hey, it’s Chanhee!” He did his best for fake happiness, hoping the other boy would buy it. “Sorry I couldn’t call earlier.”

“It’s okay. When are you free next?”

“Um… maybe Wednesday of next week?”

“Chanhee? I can’t hear you, you’re breaking up… are you on the subway?!” exclaimed Changmin, but not in an upset way in the slightest.

“Er… yeah. But I won’t be able to ca ―”

“Yah, are you crying? Be honest.” Chanhee remains silent. “Where are you?”

“On my way to a bar.”

“Which? I’m coming.”

“No, it’s okay! I’m going with my friend.”

“Can you call me or at least text me when you get there?”

“Yeah… but why do you care ―”

“No buts.”

“Okay,” Chanhee sighs. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Be safe, Chanhee. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t. I mean ― ! I’ll be safe. I won’t do anything stupid, I’m probably going to just pass out at his house.”

“ _ His? _ ” Changmin accidentally let a little more jealousy slip from his lips than he would’ve liked.

“Yeah, my friend’s.”

“Oh, right. Let me know.”

“I will.”

He descended at the end of the line, only then could he muster enough courage to wipe the tears from his face. The painful walk from the station to the bar was not a very long expedition, but it was like his feet were attached to a ball and chain on both. The frosty air didn’t help, tears pooling from his eyes, even if they were squeezed shut. 

By the time Chanhee arrived at the bar, Jacob was already sat with a gin and tonic for the empty seat next to him, presumably for the other boy. Chanhee nearly tripped over himself to throw himself into his platonic companion’s arms, weeping into his shoulder. Jacob soothingly pets the younger’s hair, because he knows that Chanhee likes it.

“Tell me what happened.”

It takes Chanhee a little while to recompose himself, speaking between sniffles.

“I-it’s Younghoon. He’s… he’s cheating on me.” This was the first time he said it aloud, begging for it to be a fucking nightmare, but no, this was the reality he lived in. Chanhee’s knees would’ve given in had Jacob not been holding him. He holds Chanhee by the shoulders.

“He… what?” Jacob is a very gentle person, but his face hinted with rage. His head tilted and the grip on Chanhee’s shoulder unintentionally got tighter but he didn’t dare tell Jacob. Chanhee had never seen Jacob so furious behind a calm face in all their years of friendship, and it was fucking terrifying. He almost felt a little empathy for Younghoon, but then again, he cheated on Chanhee. He sat up on his stool on his own.

“I-I went into his apartm-ment and there were clothes o-on the floor. And they weren’t his or mine.” Chanhee buried his face in his hands, but his speech was loud and clear to Jacob, who was all ears. “I also h-heard him say hyung…”

“I’m going to destroy him.” Jacob stared blankly at a spot on the floor, visualizing beating the shit out of Younghoon. Black eye, broken nose, busted lip, the whole nine yards. Jacob clenches his fists.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

“Chanhee, I love you, but are you fucking crazy? How can I  _ not  _ hurt him? You’re a mess, he should be in a hospital bed, maybe in a coffin..!” A few heads turned. “Can I at least hurt him a little bit?” whispered the elder.

“Cobbie, I appreciate it,” Chanhee starts.

“But..?” The other boy raises his brows, waiting for the catch.

“But he would beat you like a pulp.” Chanhee couldn’t help but giggle.

“Wow,” Jacob pouts. “My ego is hurt, and you know it’s not very big.”

“That sounds realllllly weird without context, Cob.”

“You are such a child.” Jacob didn’t care if he had to make fun of himself to make Chanhee smile, even just a little bit. He was there to take Younghoon off his mind, no matter what. Unfortunately, it didn’t last very long. 

“I’m going to delete all of our pictures.” Chanhee takes a sip of his drink before coughing and twisting his face. “What the  _ fuck _ is this?!”

“Gin and tonic,” replies Jacob nonchalantly.

“Can I please have a shirley temple?” Chanhee asks politely, adding a touch of aegyo. No, Chanhee did not enjoy doing aegyo, but it’s how he got a lot of things, including Younghoon. Jacob rolled his eyes and mouthed the word ‘desgustaeng’ like the fucking meme. The other boy blows him a kiss as he slides his current beverage to Jacob.

“You’re breaking up with him, right?” Chanhee only sipped on his sweet drink, chewing on the bright cherry stem. “Chanhee…”

“Of course I will! I’m not  _ that _ helpless.”

“Buuuuuut?”

“But not right away. If he knows that I know, he’ll never agree to talk about it.”

“Never get in the same bed with him again, I don’t care if you are just napping.”

“Yah, how low do you think of me?!” Chanhee could feel himself getting tipsy, raising his index finger at the bartender for another.

“Chanhee you’re only halfway done wi ―”

“Shhhhhhhhhhh.” He pushes the same finger to Jacob’s lips, his eyes half-lidded. “I like the cherries…”

“I find it ironic.”

“Hmm?”

“We’re at a gay bar.”

“Elaborate, please. I have literally  _ no fucking idea  _ what you just said.”

“You just found out your boyfriend is cheating on you. We are at a gay bar. Where tops pick up bottoms.”

“Ohhhhh… Did we meet at a gay bar, Cobbie?”

“No, Chanhee. We met in high school. Are you really that much of a lightweight?”

“What the fucksssa lightweight?”

“You.”

“Drink.” Chanhee points at the glass of gin and tonic.

“I can’t.”

“Whyyyy?”

“Who will be the designated driver?”

“Public transportation and Uber exist.”

“Shh. I drove here.”

“I can drive.”

“No, you absolutely cannot.”

“Sober, you fucking idiot.”

“Chanhee, you’ve had half a drink and you’re intoxicated as fuck.”

They stayed at the bar for a few hours until Chanhee was 95% shitfaced. He could barely walk. Jacob folded the younger boy over his shoulder, limp and moaning.

“Where are we going? Everything feels weird. Why is it so dark outside?!” Jacob buckled Chanhee into the passenger’s seat, then putting the car in ignition.

“Are you cold?”

“I’m hornyyyyy.”

“I… cannot help you there.”

“What did I just say? I forgot what I said.”

“You said you were the h-word.”

“Hot? Hell yeah.”

“N ― ... No.”

“Ohhhh horny! I meant hungry. Same difference.”

“Trust me, Chanhee. They are very different.”

They sat in silence as Jacob drove to his small apartment, checking over Chanhee every few minutes to make sure he still had a pulse. Occasionally, Chanhee would whine for a few seconds and then fall back asleep. Next thing Chanhee knew, he was being hoisted out of the car and into the chilly wind.

“Hoonie~” Chanhee slurred. “Why do you have to be such an asshole? A gorgeous dick? Your dick is not gorgeous. It is average at best. I gave you errything!” Jacob tilted his head and cringed a bit. 

“I know, I know.” He half walked half carried the younger to his bed. “Your cheeks are burning up, you need to get some rest.”

“Hey! It’s a drunk Asian thing, apparently. Am I glowing?” Jacob pretended not to hear. “This… This issssnot my bed…”

“It’s mine, Hee.”

“Your bed is so nice.” Chanhee fell comatose the moment his head hit the pillow. Jacob moved the younger boy’s bangs to the side and looked at him lovingly, sighing.  He settled for the couch if it meant Chanhee could rest well.

 

Chanhee awoke to the scent of steamy, intense coffee. He gasped, only now remembering that he was supposed to contact Changmin to let him now he was okay.

_ Fuck. Please don’t be worried. I’m fine. _

He dials the boy’s number, but there’s no answer.

 

_ [10:59] chanhee: so sorry! forgot to text u but im okay :} _

 

Chanhee shuffles into the kitchen, inhaling the fierce aroma of coffee.

“Good morning, Cobbie!”

“Feeling any better?”

“Yeah! A lot better. Physically.” He rubs his eyes.

“Do you not have a hangover?”

“No, I never do. Blessing and a curse.” Chanhee fixes his coffee, sipping slowly. “I-I just want to say thank you, Jacob.” Jacob wraps his arms around the shorter boy.

“You mean so much to me.”

“I’m so fucking grateful to have you. I really mean it.”

Jacob drives Chanhee home, walking all the way to his doorstep. It was less than 12 hours, and it feels like their entire relationship changed. Chanhee felt closer to Jacob, and the opposite for the older. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah,” Chanhee nods his head reassuringly. “I think I’ll go to the gym to blow off some steam.”

“My own Chanhee, a gym rat.”

The younger scoffs and unlocks his door, stepping inside. 

“Thank you.” Jacob smiles warmly, scanning Chanhee up and down for any signs that he wouldn’t be okay. Jacob stays at the threshold for a few moments in case Chanhee needed him, but he never came out.

Chanhee freshened up, doing his best to fall back into the cycle of self care. It seemed very hard for Chanhee to wash his face, to eat a meal, even if it was small, to take a shower. He truly, honestly felt fine at Jacob’s apartment, but at his own, it was like night and day, complete polar opposites. He refused to let himself cry. He refused to shed another tear over someone who was not deserving of his love. Chanhee managed to eat and shower, as it was the best he could do for the time being. He didn’t, however, know how long this would last. The boy only hoped that the recovery was far quicker than the harm.

He slipped into a loose shirt and basketball shorts like every other cishet guy, but he didn’t give two shits at this point. He wasn’t seeing anyone important, he just wanted to beat the shit out of a punching bag. 

Chanhee sighed and plugged in his AirPods, turning on the only music that could heal invisible injuries. Sundays were typically slow. People would stay at home, recovering from the past week and bracing themselves for the next one. Chanhee just wanted to let it out, he wanted to be ugly, he wanted to rid his wrath without the fear of being judged. But all of his thoughts dissolved as he walked into the aerobics room to find the dancer seated on the floor, back pressed against the mirror with his phone in hand

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i'm late to milk and honey but expect lots of deep shit  
> ignore grammatical errors <3  
> my twitter is @ dayfiys


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